Medicated
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: Dean finds various pill bottles in Sams bag and comes to a wrong conclusion about his brother. Season 8 centric.


It was another run of the mill hunt that ended with them getting hurt. Usually they'd manage on their own but their first aid kits were empty, it had been used during the time of the leviathans and Sam hadn't refilled it.

Dean had brought that up when they were in the emergency room, saying that maybe Sam had been too busy with his dog and vet to fill it up since he wasn't hunting either. Sam hadn't said anything but his jaw moved in that way that he was either annoyed or holding back whatever he wanted to really say.

If anything that made Dean just a touch angrier but he pushed it down once a nurse came to them, eyeing their bruises and how they were holding themselves to put the pressure off of their broken ribs.

They spoke to a doctor, a resident doing their residency from the young look on their face, and then another nurse before they were finally given some medications and the wounds were looked at.

"Bar fight." Dean told them shortly as an answer to where they had gotten hurt. Sam didn't say anything but asked where the bathroom was that he could use.

It was standard procedure for them whenever they went to an emergency room, they'd try to find more supplies and medicine that they could take. They both knew it was wrong but at the same time, they needed the extra help.

Sam was gone longer than before and Dean was glancing at his watch impatiently, inching slowly towards the doors without bringing too much attention onto him.

After what felt like an eternity Sam finally came back to him, two bags instead of the usual one in his hands, using his body to try to hide them. Wordlessly they went back to the impala and got onto the road, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them and the emergency room.

Sam was quiet in the passenger's seat, keeping his second bag in between his legs as close as he could keep it. He shifted and pushed the bag a bit more under his seat almost subconsciously.

They drove until they reached two towns over and Dean checked into a motel room. Together they moved their things into the room and Sam fell into the second bed away from the door without changing. Curling a bit more into the bed Sam closed his eyes and fell asleep, still filled with tension despite being asleep.

Glancing at his brother who was dead asleep in his bed Dean snatched his bag from the chair and opened it, his brother has had enough secrets and it was time for Sam to come clean, one way or another.

Dean's hand curled around a bottle and he pulled it out, blinking when he saw the medical label on it. It was from the hospital they had just ransacked for medications but he didn't recognize the name on it, risperidone. He mentally went through his knowledge of painkillers and came up short.

He looked into the bag and spotted more pill bottles. He shot another glance at his brother to make sure that he was still asleep and pulled out a second bottle, aripiprazole, and couldn't figure out what it was for either.

Pain killers were one thing, they needed them at times when whiskey wasn't enough, but that still didn't help anything make sense to why Sam was hiding these.

And it didn't make his anger get any smaller. His brother had problems with addiction in the past, the demon blood was a prime example and he still fought the urge to curse Ruby for being the one to bring it to him, and now this, an addiction to medications.

When the hell did this even happen? It wasn't during the time Dean was in purgatory, Sam was off living a normal life with a dog and a vet and therefore had no reason to turn to any addictions.

Which meant that this had been happening before. During his time with Dean and hunting Sam had been popping pills behind Deans back with no regard on how it would affect his hunting abilities and now that he was back hunting he was back to taking them.

Dean tried to think back to all those times they had run low on medical supplies, remembering those moments of empty painkillers with a new eye as he tried to remember how Sam would react, whether or not it was obvious that he was hiding the fact that he was behind it.

Breathing out Dean glanced into the bag once more, seeing more bottles. He set the two he was holding onto the table and started to bring the others out, glancing at their names as well and not recognizing any of them.

Olanzapine, ziprasidone, quetiapine, pimavanserin.

They weren't any painkillers that he recognized and he was sure that he knew them all, or at the least the ones they could semi easily get from the emergency rooms. Which meant either that hospitals had changed regulations or Sam had been so desperate for his next hit he had gone straight to the storage's, putting the both of them in danger of being found out, and stolen them from there.

Which meant that these were the stronger ones, the ones that the hospitals converted to keep for their bigger cases.

Dean fought the urge to throw them all down the drain and the only thing keeping him from doing that was the knowledge that maybe they'd legitimately need them after a hunt.

Dean shot a glare at his still sleeping brother, wondering where it had all gone to hell and where Sam had turned so badly. When had he turned on a path that wasn't the right one? Why had he done all of this?

They didn't even have the panic room anymore for Dean to put Sam into for withdrawal, Bobby was dead and therefore his house was no longer a welcoming place for them, they couldn't go back there anymore, so Dean was severely limited in what he could actually do.

Instead he just lined up all the bottles in a row on the table and sat down, opening their laptop and trying to figure out what to do and where he could take Sam to deal with this.

He loved his brother unconditionally, had sold his soul for him and would do so again, but damn if Sam didn't make it hard at times.

A little bit later Sam stirred in his bed and moved, yawning and sitting up, rubbing at his eyes. "I miss anything?" he mumbled.

"Don't know, you tell me." Dean said shortly, not looking up from his emails.

Sam seemed to frown at the tone of Deans voice and turned towards him, about to say something when he saw the pill bottles on the table. He pulled slightly and straightened up a bit more. "I can explain." he said, completely awake.

"Yeah I'm sure." Dean said snapping the laptop shut harder than he should have. He looked up at his brother and narrowed his eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I didn't want to." he finally said, seeming to fight the urge to either stand or keep sitting on the bed. He turned so that he was facing his brother. "I didn't want to keep this a secret from you but I also didn't want to tell you."

"Well now I found out and it's worse than you not telling me, cause now, now I'm going to take charge of this." Dean told him, pressing his hands into the table to keep them from shaking too much in anger.

Sam looked away from him. "Dean, you weren't here, you were in purgatory, I didn't have that many options."

"So this started when I was in purgatory?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and then snorted. "Thought you had your perfect and normal life, what happened that made you need them?"

"I've been dealing with it for a while before then, just during that time I was alone I was finally able to try to see and think things a bit more clearly." Sam said slowly, a touch of anger in his voice and if anything, that pissed Dean off even more. Sam had no right to be angry about this, not when Dean was facing another betrayal from him.

"My god Sam, what the hell is it with you and addiction?" Dean asked shaking his head. "First the demon blood, now this? What the hell?" when he looked up at his brother Sam looked confused. "What?"

"I think that's my line." Sam said. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're poppin' pills." Dean snapped at him. "I'm talking about that you're facing another addiction and we need to get rid of this as soon as possible."

Sam just stared at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. "That's not what it is Dean."

"Oh yeah? Its not?" Dean asked with a snort. He got up and snatched one of the bottles. "Then what the hell do you call this Sam? You're stealing pills from the hospitals to feed your addiction. How long of a stash you got here?" he cast a disgusted look at the other bottles. "'About a month's worth? Or do you take them all at once and hope you don't overdose?"

Sam adopted an expressionless look on his face as he stared up at his brother. "Dean, they're not addictive. I'm not an addict."

"Spin another one Sam, cause I don't believe you anymore." Dean shot at him. "I don't think I can ever believe you again after this."

"They're not addictive and I'm not an addict." Sam repeated. "Dean...they're not opiates or pain killers."

"Then what the hell are they Same? And you better have a good excuse cause I'm two seconds away from handcuffing you to that bed." Dean told him, tightening his grip on the bottle.

Sam sighed and stood up, picking up one of the bottles and staring down at them. His eyes for a moment went to the side but then he looked back at the bottle.

"They're medications to help with hallucinations." Sam said putting the bottle back onto the table. "I still see Lucifer Dean."

Dean felt his blood turn cold for a moment and he felt something inside of him crack. "Cas took those from you."

Sam shook his head. "Cas took the power of the hallucinations from me, he took their biggest effect on me, but he didn't take it all away from me." he said. "It's not like before, I can ignore it a bit more easier than last time, but," he shrugged. "I still see him and he still talks to me. Sometimes I just," he opened the bottle and took one of the pills dry, swallowing it down. "Sometimes I need the extra help."

"The extra help?" Dean repeated, not sure of how to deal or name the emotions that were slowly running inside of him.

Sam nodded, staring at the ground. "The hallucinations are manageable but when I was alone I got hurt and I was checked into a hospital again, the doctors read my files and knew about the hallucinations from before and so they prescribed me the medication. It didn't work last time but this time it did and well," he shrugged. "So I try to keep up with it, I try to get more and I try to ration it but sometimes, I run out."

"I get that we're not on the best track right now, and I get that you're mad at me." Sam said quietly, grabbing his bag and slowly putting the bottles back into it. He hoisted in onto his back and grabbed his jacket as well. "But I thought that at the very least you'd talk to me and not jump to these kind of conclusions."

"Sammy." Dean started to say, taking a step towards his brother. Sam moved away from him, putting his boots back on. Wordlessly he left the motel room, hoisting his bag up a bit more onto his shoulder. The door closed behind him, leaving Dean alone in the room.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

**143/365**

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